Revenge is Bittersweet
by Rogue Novelist
Summary: Many mutants thought to be cured have regained their powers. Erik Lehnsherr is back at the helm of the Brotherhood...But his right hand woman is nowhere to be found. Because she was abandoned, Mystique refuses to return to Lehnsherr, and is sought out by
1. Chapter 1

"I can't see anything in this place...I'm going to trip over something."

"It wouldn't be called the /Danger Room/ if things weren't dangerous."

"...Just shut up and tell me where the hell this bomb is."

"Can't do both."

"All right, then. Just shut up."

It was pitch black inside some sort of research facility where the two quarrelsome teammated were located. They had effectively breached two lines of security without detection within 15 solid minutes, but it was a miracle that both had their heads in tact. Despite the powerful, complimenting stealth and espionage experience on both halves, the duo couldn't quite seem to see eye-to-eye and let the mission run without hitting any bumps in the road.

One half of the party was a gorgeous, five-feet ten-inches of a modelesque woman with dark-azure flesh embellished elaborately with even darker indigo scales. She had fiery tresses slicked flawlessly back out of garish yellow eyes. She had the form and the vitality of a woman of about 25 years, at her peak, while really she had decades more experience under he belt. She had a knack for wonderfully executed infiltration. Training in helicopter, plane, and jet piloting. Spying. Handling and recognition of advanced weaponry. Computer and technology usage and hacking. She also had an uncanny modus operandi with the men, because, after all, she had the ability to become their fantasy. Oh, she didn't discriminate against women. You wanted Jennifer Lopez in your bed, you had her. Orlando Bloom? She could do that, too. Right down to the retina print and pattern of pores.

On the other half of the team was a tall, six-feet three-inches tank of a man with dark brown, almost onyx, unruly locks that sloped up to two peaks on either side of his head. A scruffy trail of thick facial hair laced his strong jawline. His steely brown eyes saw clear and far during both day and night. He was clad in a form-fitting leather uniform with yellow tubing breaking up the endless inches of black. Skills included stealth, military experience, training in the martial arts, and fluency of several different foreign languages. He had an exceptional build, and it caught the fancy of his female mission companion, whether she liked his personality or not.

"I know it was a bad idea to let Logan take Mystique into this trial mission," heavily sighed the white-haired weather witch who had been monitoring progress through the mission control center.

"Nein!" firmly reassured a blue-skinned, yellow-eyed mutant. His long tail lashed every so often behind him. "If she can complete zis mission weez Logan, she can do it weez anybody."

"I suppose you're right, Kurt...Given that Logan doesn't julienne her."

Logan finally announced in his brusque tone," Okay. I got a plan."

"Couldn't you have told me 10 minutes ago beofre I had to come up with one of my own?" spat Raven in her mixed-metallic voice. She was rather irritable.

"Couldn't /you/ have told /me/ when you came up with /yours/ before I fucking came up with MINE?" he retorted bitterly in a growl.

"Why do I have to tell you everything?" she hissed. "Want to know everytime I have to piss, too?"

"We're a TEAM, Mystique. We can't freaking work together if there's no communication. Now just shut the hell up and listen, wou--Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

Mystique had gone off and disappeared down one of the corridors. Her bare feet made her steps silent along the metal-grated floor, whereas Logan had to take more precaution in his boots. The Canadian shook his head and put a hand over his face. There was going to be no mutual consensus at any point of the night. He peered up into the corner of the lobby where he had seen a camera. "Storm, can we stop? Please?"

Ororo and Kurt looked at each other in utter shock. Did the Wolverine just say 'please'? Both burst out laughing at the same time at the man's plea. He was never known for too many manners, and he must have been damn-well desperate for them to come out during a Danger Room mission.

Logan nearly leapt out of his skin at the sound of sirens and the flashing of red lights. Shining adamantium razors exploded painfully out of his knucked and vividly reflected the crimson lighting. Just as he made a pass at a security guard, the environment around him faded and the guards vanished, leaving only the leather-clad Wolverine and a single security guard in spacious, chrome, hangar-like room. "Smooth move, Ex-Lax," he grunted," What the hell did you do to trip the alarm?" The man wasn't accustomed to failure.

The guard's lips curled into a satisfied, impish smirk. "I told the guards you were here so that they'd be distracted," she replied simply, her blue scales rippling over the camouflage security outfit. Her eyes returned to their aureate hue, hair to that vivid scarlet...

"You bitch!"

"Hey. Woman's got to do what a woman's got to do, Logan."

Danger Room Session--FAILED

"If that were a real mission, you coulda cost us our lives!"

Mystique's sapphire lips retained and omniscient grin and her eyes a similar glow. "If that were a real mission, it wouldn't have mattered how we did anything. It would have only mattered that we got it done," she purred in her thick, multi-tonal voice. "And you very well know that."

A brisk click of heels sent both members whirling about to lay eyes on a regal frame with a proud, almost arrogant, posture. Her blue eyes always seemed to be looking down upon her subjects, no matter how much taller than she they were. "But you could have gotten your teammates eliminated," she interjected in a firm voice. It was obvious that the white-haired headmistress wasn't pleased with the newest addition to the team.

"I fly solo," Raven glowered acidically.

"Not here."

"/You/ asked /me/ for help. I didn't come crawling onto the doorstep like a lost puppy. If you still want my help, I'll do things /my/ way. Otherwise, I'll see you around."

"She's got a point, Storm," Logan commented, secretyly admiring the blue-fleshed for the kind of attitude she had. The woman didn't give for anybody or anything.

Ororo need only glance at Logan to silence him. "Mystique. We honestly do need you. However, we need you to work as part of our team. You c--"

"Then make me team leader," she demanded.

"Bad idea," Logan coughed.

The weather-witch bit her lip in thought. Making the ex-Brotherhood affiliate team leader could have proved to be chaotic. But they needed her. Depserately. As headmistress, this decision would be critical. With an apologetic glance aimed at the Canadian..."Only from now until you aren't needed anymore." Logan looked back at Ororo in disbelief.

Mystique smiled wolfishly. "You've got yourself a deal."


	2. Chapter 2

" 'Ro, I don't like her here."

"Yeah, me either!"

Ororo's deep chocolate gaze flickered from Bobby to Kitty, and then to the gentle-giant Piotr, who hadn't yet said anything, despite the millions of thoughts, complaints, and protests that undoubtedly cluttered his mind. The Russian meekly peered at his fellow teammates before soft-spokenly adding, "She does seem suspicious."

The regal, weather-harnessing mutant let a heavy sigh knife through her nostrils. "I hate to say this, but you're going to have to learn to deal with her. And trust her. I've given her the position of field leader...For now."

Bobby's bright blue eyes dimmed sadly for a moment, and suddenly blazed with discontent. "But 'Ro, how do you know she won't lead us into a trap? She's not exactly the most trustworthy of people, and you know this!" He was firm and sharp with his words, but not so much as to disrespect the Weather Witch. He had grown into something resembling a leader amongst the junior X-Men, and would undeniably be the next Scott Summers.

"Magneto abandoned her. She's angry with him, and she'll do anything to get back at him."

"And that means helping _us_?"

"He expected her to crawl back to him."

Pete's quiet voice carefully poked into the conversation with a gentleness contradicted by his his size. "So, she really doesn't want to help _us_, she wants to harm _him_. She's using us, essentially."

It was clear that Ororo's feathers were being mildly ruffled by the older students. She kept her voice cool and calm, however, and dug deep down inside to keep her patience. "Listen, guys. You might not like her, but she's smart and knows what she's doing. She'll be loyal to us as long as we don't turn around and stab her in the back. Besides, the arrangement isn't permanent."

The metal doors suddenly slid open in a blur of chrome and a whir of machine to allow a leather-clad Canuck trudge in, his combat boots thudding heavily against the floor. "Where the hell is Storm?" he growled, his dark gaze flitting about the room and piercing every single set of eyeballs. The kids, bewildered, first looked about the company that was there, stared at the white-haired Weather Witch before them, and proceeded to look upon Logan as if he'd grown three extra heads and his hair turned a neon orange. "Stop screwin' around!" he barked, making even Piotr jump.

Cerulean scales ripped over skin-tight black leather, all the way down to boots, until the rich blue hue devoured every inch of surface area. Brown irises bled into the white scelera and brightened into a garish yellow. To finalize the transformation, the blanched, choppy locks took on a smoldering ruby coloration and grew to an even length, neatly framing an exotic pattern of indigo scales and sapphire flesh.

The three junior X-Men sat wide-eyed, with mouthes hanging open, and faces flushing a fleshy crimson. In unison, they turned to Wolverine. "Kids..." he murmured, merely rolling his eyes at them.

A thick mess of metallic tones filled the empty space, articulating clear words despite the twistedly beautiful-but-dissonant timbre. "Storm's has paperwork to finish. She said that we could proceed without her. Nightcrawler will fill her position."

**_BAMF!_**

As if on cue, a cloud of Brimstone-scented navy smoke floated about, but quickly dissipated, and the blue elf had appeared with his metallic-white teeth showing in an amiable smile. "Hallo! I em to do zha Danger Room vidh you! Ororo has sent me!" he piped excitedly. The grin soon faded when he felt tension crackling through the air like static electricity. His spaded tail flicked uneasily. "So ve go now, ja? Ent I vill explain everysink to you on zha vay zhere."

The trio rose immediately and trailed the friendlier of the two blue mutants almost instantly, chattering amongst themselves in disbelief. Mystique rose fluidly afterwards to follow, and Logan took up his position at the end. "Stop staring at my ass," Mystique scolded knowingly, looking over her shoulder at a somewhat embarrassed Wolverine. She tossed him a saucy smirk before looking forwards again.


End file.
